


seeing the story (for what it is)

by toomuchsky



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, Sex Worker AU, background eleanor/max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22873426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchsky/pseuds/toomuchsky
Summary: John Silver is a whore in the whorehouse in Nassau, and wants nothing more than to get out of this binding contract with Vane, get away from the sea, and get the hell off this island. When he overhears a plan about Spanish ships, about adventure, and about stolen gold, he sees his chance and takes it.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw & John Silver, Eleanor Guthrie/Max, John Silver/Charles Vane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	seeing the story (for what it is)

John Silver’s used to having marks all over him - large, purple hickeys all over his neck; splotches of color where bruising fingers had dug into his hips; small scars from where his clients had gotten a little too handsy too quickly and knocked into furniture or otherwise. It comes with the profession, and it’s a small price to pay for the money and influence it brings. 

But this - this is different than normal. 

“Ow,” Silver hisses as the doctor pokes and prods at his black eye. 

“Keep still,” Dr. Garrett mutters, going into his toolbox. 

Silver grumbles, wincing each time pressure is put on his eye, and studiously continues ignoring Mr. Noonan pacing angrily in the background while the doctor works. 

The midday Nassau sun beats down on them through the windows, the light sea breeze blowing in doing nothing to mitigate the sweat from pouring down into Silver’s eyes, which makes all of the doctor’s ministrations - to the black eye, to the ring of bruises around his neck, and the bruise on his jaw - that much more precarious and painful. The silence creaks between the three of them. 

After ten minutes of the excruciating silence, the door opens and Max walks in without any preamble, fire and fury in her eyes. 

“Ah, finally,” Mr. Noonan says, snapping around to face her as she walks in, dresses swishing around her, going straight for Silver. “Perhaps  _ you’ll  _ be able to get him to talk, since he won’t talk to me.” 

“ _ Mr.  _ Noonan, as I’ve told you multiple times this past half hour,” Silver starts, not looking at Max as she pushes the doctor away and stands in front of Silver. “ _ Nothing  _ happened - it was a simple accident. A fall down the stairs. I wasn’t watching where I was going, as usual.” Silver smiles his most disarmingly sheepish smile, the one that says  _ Oh silly me, I’m so clumsy and stupid _ , and shrugs. “You know me.” 

Max takes his chin, gently, and lifts it up so he has no choice but to look her in the eyes. Silver’s smile falters. She holds out her hand for the piece of cotton infused with poultice the doctor was using. He places it in her hand and she slowly starts dabbing it around his eye. “It is as he says,” she says finally to Mr. Noonan. “Silver would not lie about this.”

Mr. Noonan grumbles, but finally lets it go when he sees that Max isn’t going to be on his side with this. “And how do you suppose you’ll make up your week’s wages, looking like that, then?” 

Silver shrugs as best he can, with Max still in front of him. “There are many patrons willing to pay good money to help out a poor, abused whore, Mr. Noonan. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He flashes him a smile, and adds, because he knows if nothing else it will settle Mr. Noonan’s mind, “If I’m short, I’ll work double next week.” 

Grumbling, but ultimately satisfied, Mr. Noonan leaves, taking the doctor with him and slamming the door shut on his way out. 

Max doesn’t say anything, and each second that she’s silent Silver’s heart drops further into his stomach. 

“Look, I - “ Silver starts.

“Do not even  _ think  _ about lying to me, mon cher,” Max snips, quickly. 

Silver sighs heavily. “I’m fine,” he says, and he wills it not to be a lie. “I am, I swear. It wasn’t anything serious.” 

“When Charles  _ fucking  _ Vane leaves these kinds of marks on you, it is anything but  _ not serious _ ,” Max says, putting the cotton aside on the tray the doctor had left and climbing into Silver’s lap. She sighs, leaning into Silver’s chest. “When was it?”

Silver swallows. “Last night.” 

Max frowns. “That’s sooner than normal, is it not?” 

Silver shrugs as best he can with a lapful of Max. “Eleanor’s got them grounded currently - you’ve heard how she hasn’t been giving them any new tips.” He looks down at her, smirking. “Maybe you could change that.” 

Max looks at him, unamused. 

Silver laughs, bright as the Nassau sun. “Just kidding.” 

Max brushes his eye again. There’s a long moment. “You’re not,” she says. 

Silver just swallows. He hates how easily Max can read him. He needs to find new tricks. “I’m not,” he says softly. 

Max sighs, leaning into his chest again. “I’ll see what I can do, mon cher.” 

And there’s nothing more to be said, after that.

As he predicted, Silver has no trouble making his wages for the week, marred as he is. All it takes is a couple of pitiful looks and small winces, and everyone is falling over themselves to be the one to save the whore from the whorehouse. Small, flitting, self deprecating smiles when they ask what happened add to the allure. 

It’s all about telling the right story - people see what they want to see in Silver, and who is he to not give them what they want? 

He falls into bed with a well meaning regular, who thinks himself in love with Silver, near the end of the night. 

“Will you let me help?” Will asks, softly, breathing into Silver’s neck. “Please, I just - I want to - “

“Sweetheart,” Silver murmurs, twisting his hand on his cock  _ just so _ and making him cry out again. “You being here with me is more than enough. You must know this by now.” 

Will comes with a shudder and plants heavy, wet kisses all over Silver’s face. Silver acts like he’s pulling away but then lets himself be pulled back in, as if Silver’s so overcome by him that he can’t help coming back for more. 

“Let me help you,” Will says again, coming up for air and brushing fingers over Silver’s face. “Please, I can’t see you suffer like this here.” 

Silver silences him with another kiss. “Mon cher, don’t tempt me with fantasies that won’t ever be. You are here, and that’s enough for now.” Silver kisses him again and then seals a future session by saying, “Just - promise me - promise me you’ll come back? I don’t know if I can do this without knowing you’ll be back.” 

Will makes all of the promises he can get across his lips, and kisses Silver multiple times as he dresses and leaves, leaving a bundle of coins on the bedside table as he does. 

Silver stretches, long and lean on his bed, letting his joints pop as he does. There’s still a couple of hours left in the night, but he’s met his quota and then some, and he’s  _ exhausted _ . He should probably go take a bath in the communal bath house - he’s filthy and covered in come - but can’t bring himself to face  _ more  _ pitying stares, and this time from the other whores, those he can’t even ply money from. 

So he just rolls over onto the part of the bed that isn’t sticky anymore and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

The next morning, they wake to news that the Walrus is back in port and Silver has to swallow his grimace. Flint being back in town meant that Vane would be much more unpredictable and on edge than usual. Of anyone in Nassau - save Eleanor - no one could get under Vane’s skin as Captain Flint could.

So he’s expecting it when Jack Rackham shows up at the whorehouse a couple of days later and locks eyes with him. Silver’s in the middle of securing his next client, but the fact that Anne Bonny is next to Jack means that this is serious - and urgent. So Silver drops kisses of apology along the woman’s jaw and slides out of her lap with promises of making it up to her soon. 

As he passes Gully, one of the other whores, grabbing some ale from the bar, he says, “Tell Max where I’ve gone, will you? Don’t let her come after me, just tell her who I’m going with.” 

Gully just nods. “And what do you want me to tell Mr. Noonan?” he asks, catching his clients eyes over Silver’s shoulders and giving him a salacious wink and waggling his eyebrows as an apology for the wait. 

“Nothing,” Silver says, steely eyed. “He doesn’t need to know.” 

“And your quota?” Gully asks. There’s never been any love lost between Gully and Silver, or even between Silver and most of the other whores in the whorehouse, but they all have a certain kinship with each other regardless, which is why Silver knows Gully’s just being cautious for him, not threatening anything. 

“I’ll make it up by the end of the week,” Silver assures. “But I have to do this.” He finally pushes past Gully toward Jack, saying, “Just tell Max, okay?” 

Gully hums his assent as he walks back over to his client with the ale. 

Silver takes the last second to blow a kiss at the woman he’d been trying to seduce before this, and then turns to finally walk to Jack and Anne, gut tight and nervous. 

“He that desperate for me already?” Silver asks, grin stretching wide to hide his trepidation. “Flint must have really gotten him heated. How long has it been - two days? That’s a new record, isn’t it?” 

Jack eyes the fading black eye. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut around him today.”

“Well, Jack-y boy, that would much defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” Silver says, snorting. 

Jack just rolls his eyes and leads them out of the whorehouse toward where Vane’s crew had pitched their tents - crews didn’t usually stay long enough on the beach to need to pitch whole tent cities, but ever since Eleanor and Vane’s very public breakup, she’s made it very clear who her favorite  _ isn’t _ , and Vane’s crew were so disliked by the island they didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

Which has raised a whole host of problems for Silver, thanks very much. 

“So, how long do you think you’ll be satisfied as Vane’s errand boy, Jack?” Silver asks, purposefully casually. 

Jack tenses. He had to have known this was coming - ever since the beginning of this - this  _ thing _ between him and Vane, Silver has been working on Jack, trying to chip away at the threads that held him and his captain together. 

“Fetching whores is all he thinks you’re good for? But what else are you going to do, I guess, right?” Silver shrugs. “Especially since you’re grounded with no new leads. How long do you think your crew is going to be willing to live like this?” He cuts his eyes across to Jack’s and watches his face as he says, “How long are  _ you _ willing to live like this?”

Jack’s jaw clenches, but he keeps walking forward, through the camp and toward Vane’s tent. “Wait here,” he snaps at Silver, when they get to the entrance. 

“Aye, aye - cap’n,” Silver, cheeky grin in place for when Jack turns to glare at him. 

It’s quiet for a moment as Jack goes through the flap in Vane’s tent and they talk in murmured voices. Silver can’t quite keep the grin on his face anymore - all his nerves are intricate knots, and he’s sure his trepidation shows now. 

“You know that ain’t gonna work,” says a voice behind him. 

Silver jumps, and turns to see that Anne hadn’t gone in with Jack. Silver shrugs. 

“He’s too wrapped up in Charles fucking Vane to ever see that he could do any wrong. What you’re trying ain’t gonna work,” Anne says again, and Silver can’t tell if she’s saying it for his benefit or hers, anymore. 

From inside the tent, Vane yells so that Silver can hear it outside, “Silver!” 

Silver winces. “If you were me,” he says, slowly, staring at the tent flap trying to muster the willingness to walk through. “Would that make you stop trying?” 

He doesn’t wait for her response before stepping into the tent. 

The scene he gets is very different than the scene he’s expecting. It’s not just Vane in the tent, shirtless and in bed like he usually is when he sends for Silver. It’s - well, it’s everyone. 

Eleanor Guthrie turns to look at the newcomer and gives Silver a tight-lipped stare. Captain Flint and Vane don’t even bother doing that, too caught up in glaring at each other. Jack and a man who Silver can only assume is Flint’s quartermaster, judging by the way that he’s mirroring Jack from across the table, don’t take their eyes off their respective captains to look at Silver either. 

Why the fuck was Silver here?

Vane, the closest to the tent flap, finally glances back and reaches for Silver. Silver swallows, jaw clenching as Vane hooks his finger around the piece of frayed rope he’d tied around Silver’s neck back at the beginning of their  _ arrangement,  _ and pulls him in. 

Silver makes a split second decision, decides that it’s better be seen an eager-to-please whore than - than the truth of the situation, so he lets a wide, salacious grin work its way across his face as Vane tugs at the collar to pulls him in for a loud, open mouthed kiss. When he pulls away, Silver lets his eyes roam Vane’s face and his fingers roam Vane’s chest appreciatively. If Vane wanted to do this with other people around, it’s not like he had much of a choice. He could at least control how he was seen. 

But instead, Vane just pushes him away, hand shoving his throat when he lets go of the collar, toward the bed. “Get comfortable. We’ll be done here soon.” 

Silver walks almost all the way around the tent to where the pile of furs Vane uses as a bed is, in between Eleanor and Flint in the circle. He sits on the bed, slightly awkwardly, with everyone watching, and lounges, taking in the rest of the room as he does. The question still remained - why was he here? Why let him in before the meeting had ended? Why even call for him during the meeting - send Jack out in the middle of what were clearly important negotiations, for him? Nothing about this situation was adding up, and the sooner Silver could figure out what was meant to be going on, the sooner he could begin figuring out how to turn the situation to his favor. 

“I will not sit here and discuss this matter in front of your personal catamite,” Flint all but growls. 

Silver watches his quartermaster’s face run through the emotions of exasperation before the quartermaster says, “Captain, I’m sure we can - “

“This is a sensitive matter, Gates, and I will not have a whore whose whorehouse is known for selling secrets as much as it is sex listening in,” Flint snaps. 

Heads turn to look at Silver, and he plays the part - lets his legs splay out ever so slightly, curls fall around his face, and looks up from underneath his eyelashes as he says, “I could make the discussion worth your while, if you’d like.” 

Flint dismisses him entirely with an annoyed look in his eyes. “Get him out of here,” Flint growls at Vane. 

Support comes from a most surprising corner. “Mr. Silver will stay,” Eleanor says, in a tone that brooks no arguments. “If this discussion is to continue, Mr. Silver stays.” 

Flint’s jaw works as he processes this information. Silver can tell what he’s probably thinking, because Flint can’t go against a Guthrie on this island, but he also didn’t want this information getting into the wrong hands - into Silver’s hands. Which is fair, because whatever this is, Silver’s getting curious. 

Eleanor must see the indecision in his face, because she says, in a softer tone, “And you have my personal assurance - no one outside of this room and Ms. Bonny outside will know about this.” She looks at Silver with a look that promised death if he disobeyed. He grins at her, wide and noncommittal. They both knew whatever this was, Max would find out about it with or without their help. Whatever they may think of each other, Silver knew they both loved Max, and that he could trust. 

“And you?” Flint asks, turning on Silver. “Do I have yours?”

Most people on this island didn’t regard whores as highly as this man was regarding Silver. Silver felt like he was burning him alive with just his eyes. 

“You have my word,” Silver says. His gaze flickers up to Charles Vane’s across the room. “For what it’s worth.” Vane’s eyes narrow. 

Flint’s lips press into a tight line, but he finally,  _ finally _ , takes his eyes off Silver and continues with the conversation. 

Silver sits, listening to promises of gold, of legitimacy, of stories about Spaniards and riches beyond his wildest imagination, and a plan starts to formulate in his mind. 

He must be a fool to even think about double crossing Charles Vane not once, but twice, but the opportunity was too good to pass up - he just had to find a way to reach it. 

It takes another hour before they all leave, and Silver’s head is still spinning with all he had learned - Spanish gold, sitting on a treasure galleon, hundreds of miles at sea but ripe for the taking. Silver hated the sea - fucking  _ hated  _ the sea - but he would bear it if he could find a way off this fucking island in the process. 

It takes him a long, lazy fuck to piece together the whole plan in his head. 

“It’s fucked how Flint’s the only one who has the schedule, isn’t it?” Silver says, as if he had just thought of it. His gaze casts around the small tent, catching on the flickering firelight as Vane rolls off of him to lie down beside him. “If he truly meant to bring you on as a partner, shouldn’t he share all of the information with you?” 

Vane runs light fingers over Silver’s face, his jawline and cheekbone. He’s always impossibly soft right after a good fuck, usually before Silver opens his mouth and reminds him he’s not Eleanor. “Flint shares what he wants to share, but in the end the gold will be an even split. Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, but - I’m just saying. Imagine what it could be like if  _ you  _ were the only one who knew where the gold was.”

There’s a long pause. Then, suddenly, Vane grabs a handful of SIlver’s hair and pulls him close, ignoring Silver’s yelp. “What the fuck are you trying to get at? Don’t start your fucking games with me.”

“Easy, easy - “ Silver says, heart racing. The last thing he needs is another black eye for Mr. Noonan and Max to fuss over. But - if one story wasn’t working, all he had to do was find another. And this one had dropped right into his lap. “All I’m saying is it could - tip the scales in your favor. And maybe that gold would get you back into Ms. Guthrie’s good graces - get her the legitimacy she so craves, you get the woman you so  _ desperately  _ crave.” 

Vane’s eyes narrow, but says, “And how would that work?” and Silver knows he has him. 

He smothers the grin that threatens to work its way over his face, though, because this next part is the tricky bit. He has to remind Vane of the skillset he has without reminding him of how Silver had crossed him before. “Well,” Silver says, trailing his fingers down Vane’s chest to placate him. He wasn’t above pushing his thigh into Vane’s groin, either, and is rewarded when Vane’s cock jumps. “Who else do you know that can remember almost anything with picture perfect detail after just looking at it once?”

Vane scowls, hand fisting harder in Silver’s hair. Silver hisses in pain, fingers stuttering over Vane’s chest. “And why would you do this? What’s in it for you, you shit?”

“By my estimate, I owe you 153 more fucks. Now, I know I’m pretty, but I’d say 5 million dollars in stolen Spanish gold more than covers that.” 

Slowly, painfully, Vane releases the grip he has on Silver’s hair. 

It’s not Silver’s  _ best  _ plan - and the second phase is harder than the first. Vane, he knows. He knows how to talk to him, when to step back, when to push and when to not push. It wasn’t -  _ easy _ , exactly, getting him to agree to the plan, but Silver had known it would be possible. The second phase involves too many variables he doesn’t know, and the biggest one was Captain Flint. 

“What do you know of Captain Flint?” Silver asks Charlotte as they’re working to clean the bar on the whorehouse’s one day off a month. 

Charlotte is, understandably, instantly wary. “Why?”

Silver shrugs. “I’m curious about him. He never comes in here, but almost all of his men do - I’m sure they talk about him.” 

And Charlotte’s still wary, but she’s not Max, so after a long moment, where she lets the bustle of every whore in the whorehouse running around cleaning swallow the conversation for a bit, she says, “The only things I know about him are the stories his crew tells about him - that he’s a monster, he’s undead - he doesn’t care about anything but himself, and would do anything, even fucking over his entire crew, if it meant he got what he wanted.” She thinks about it a moment longer. “Logan says he likes books. His cabin is covered with them.” 

That, he could work with. 

He gets a shift off from his duties a couple of hours later, and goes to visit Eleanor at her tavern. Mr. Scott looks at him, takes in his cheeky grin, and rolls his eyes but lets him to see her anyway. 

“Mr. Silver,” Eleanor says, sitting back in her chair. The sun glances through the window to snag on her golden hair, and Silver can tell, just for a second, what Vane might see in her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Thank you,” Silver says, hands behind his back and stance open. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

She raises a cool eyebrow. “What for?”

“I know it must have been your influence that got me in that meeting in the first place, and it’s - helped. The situation. That I’m sure Max has told you about. So thank you.” 

“I got you in the room,” she says, bending back over her papers in a clear dismissal. “Whatever happened next was up to you.” 

Silver nods, and makes to leave. 

“And Mr. Silver?” she calls, right as he’s about to open the door. He stops, but doesn’t turn around. “I was serious - if you do anything, and I mean  _ anything _ , to jeopardize this mission, I  _ will  _ make your life a living hell. I think you’ll find you do not want to test me on this.” 

Silver turns, and smiles his most charming grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Later that day, he borrows a pen and piece of paper from Idelle and writes down the pieces of Flint’s latest haul that he’d spotted on Eleanor’s desk and smiles.  _ Interesting _ . Volumes I, II, and IV of the captain’s log were entered into the Guthrie warehouse. 

Volume III was most likely in Flint’s cabin. On his ship. 

Silver looks out the window to the sea. The whorehouse was close enough that he could taste the salt in the air. The moonlight glints off waves, making them look like mountains - tall and strong and insurmountable. Silver shudders. He fucking hates the sea. 

But he has to find a way out there. 

It takes some more convincing to get Max out on the rowboat with him, but he needs someone to man it while he’s on the ship and she’s his best friend, so really, she’s obligated to do this for him. “This is not a good idea,” Max says,  _ again _ , as they row out to the ship. 

Silver rolls his eyes. “So you’ve said.”

“If Flint catches you - if he catches  _ us _ \- “

“He  _ won’t,  _ Max. He’s on shore, at that Barlow woman’s house. Logan said he’s going to be there until the morning when they start careening, and this ship will be off the ocean, which is why we’ve got to do this  _ now _ .” The time pressure is real and daunting - Flint wanted both the Walrus and the Ranger out on the water as soon as possible, and everyone could tell he was getting twitchy about it. “And besides,” Silver says, throwing her a quick grin, because he loves to tease her about her giant crush. “Even if he finds out you were behind it, Eleanor will protect you.” 

Max hits him with the oar.

The ship looms above them, and they accidentally hit the hull a couple of times before they can still the rowboat. “If I don’t come back in five minutes - “ Silver starts.

“I am  _ not  _ leaving you,” Max says, viciously. 

Silver looks at her, and knows it’s no use trying to argue with her. He wouldn’t have been able to leave her, either, if their situations were reversed, so he understands. “Okay, fine, just - do a couple of laps around the ship. There shouldn’t be anyone aboard. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

He grabs the rope and starts hauling himself up the ship. He hopes. 

He silently pads his way - barefoot, he’d left his shoes on the rowboat with Max - across the ship toward the Captain’s cabins. The ship creaks around him, and it reminds him of dead things. He has a vague idea of where the cabins are, thanks to an old map of the Walrus he’d seen in Eleanor’s rooms when she was fucking him, but doesn’t know if any guards had been posted to guard the schedule. 

Not that it really matters, for his plan to work - it wasn’t about getting the schedule. 

Silver curses internally when the door to the captain’s cabin creaks as he opens it, but mainly out of habit. He’s still surprised that no one was guarding it, or had caught him yet. Which was, of course, the whole point of this. 

To get caught. 

“Hello, Mr. Silver.” 

Silver jumps. “Fuck - “ He catches himself, hand flying to his chest to still his beating heart. Flint is leaning against his desk on the opposite side of it, holding a book lightly in his hands, clearly waiting for someone to walk through the door - for Silver to walk through the door. Silver settles for a second and then grins widely at Flint, planting his feet squarely and placing his hands behind his back like a soldier. “Hello, Captain. Just the person I was hoping to see.” 

Flint growls, and before he knows it, Silver is pushed against the closed door to the captain’s cabin with a knife against his throat. 

“Hey, hey, hey - “ Silver says, stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. “Just - just let me explain.” 

“You little  _ shit _ . Did you really think I’d leave the schedule out where anyone - where the  _ whore who got himself invited to the secret meeting  _ \- could get it?” Flint tilts his head, mouth so close Silver can feel the spittle from his words. “You can’t possibly have underestimated me so thoroughly.” 

“Of  _ course  _ not - you’re Captain  _ Flint _ ,” Silver’s in full placating mode now. This is the hard part, Silver’s always known it would be the hard part - the line he has to walk here is very, very narrow. “The rumors of you being at your woman’s place tonight were painfully staged, so obviously planted.” Silver pauses. “That’s why I came here.” 

Flint raises an eyebrow, not letting up on the pressure at his throat at all. Despite himself, Silver’s heart is still racing. He has no idea if this is going to work or not. No idea that even if it  _ does  _ work, he’ll still be able to leave here with his life.

“I have a proposition for you,” Silver says, letting his hands fall open in an easy, open gesture, trying to ignore the knife at his throat. “One that will, I think, benefit us both quite splendidly.” 

Flint lets his eyes wander down Silver’s body, in a clear indication of what he thinks Silver’s offering, and sneers. “Not interested.” 

Silver laughs. “Not that kind of proposition, Captain. I assure you, this has mutual gain, and if you’d be so kind as to remove the knife at my throat, I’ll tell you about it.” 

Flint grins viciously, and Silver’s heart races even faster. “I rather think I’ll keep it there, seeing as how you’ve crept into my cabin in the dead of night with every intention of stealing from me,” Flint says. “Though if you don’t hurry up and get to the point soon, I may have to use it just to shut you up.” 

“Alright, alright,” Silver says, placing his hands in another placating gesture. “Fair enough.” He pauses for a second again, stalling. He’s practiced this in his head, of course, but now that the time has come, he has no idea how to proceed. “It’s a shame that you have to split the entire cache of gold with Vane, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be so much nicer if you could just keep all the gold between you and your crew?”

The knife digs in deeper. “What are you trying to get at?”

“What I’m _saying_ is that here you have someone who’s very openly and publicly - _involved_ -“ Silver’s mouth twists at the word, “ \- with Vane, sneaking onto your ship on a night you weren’t supposed to be here, looking for the schedule that would gain Captain Vane double the spoils if he were to take it away from you.” 

Flint’s eyes narrow. 

“I’m sure that would warrant a public dressing down at the very least, and be grounds for termination of contract at the worst.” 

Flint stares at him, and Silver can  _ almost _ see the gears turning in his head. When Vane or anyone else stares at him like this, it’s so easy to read them, to tell what they’re thinking, and find out what exactly Silver has to do to sway them in his direction. With Flint, he finds no give, absolutely no chinks in his armor. It’s hard to work with. 

“What’s your angle in all of this?” Flint says, finally. “What’s in it for you?”

Silver laughs. “Easy. To get out of here. I’ll sell this story for you if you can get me on your crew, and help me get away from Vane and this island.” He shrugs. “With a share of the gold, of course.”

Flint narrows his eyes again, searching Silver’s face for an obvious tell. For once, Silver doesn’t even have to try to hide it - everything he’d said was the truth. He just wanted -  _ out _ . Out of this life, out of Vane’s clutches, out of all the versions of himself he’d created here. And having his share of all of the Urca’s gold couldn’t hurt while trying to start over. 

“You can trust me,” Silver says, trying his best to sound sincere. It’d been too long, though, because he thinks it falls flat. He tries for something more genuine, “Because I’m wholly in it for myself, and that’s clearly obvious.” 

Suddenly, Flink releases Silver, shoving him back before removing the knife from Silver’s throat. He doesn’t move away yet, still crowding him against the door, but even still - Silver breathes more easily with sharp things farther away from his neck. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” Flint says, and Silver’s heart sinks, because it sounds like he’s gearing up for a no. “The only reason Vane’s on his expedition anyway is because we can’t get to the Urca with just the guns on the Walrus. That hasn’t changed.” 

Silver grins, because this - he suddenly has a solution for. “Well,” he starts. “Couldn’t you take the Ranger, and say - appoint a new captain?” 

“Then we’re back to where you began, with the same number of shares between us. This math doesn’t seem to be working out well for you.”

Silver shrugs. “Not if it’s me.”

Flint stares at him, and then snorts. He slowly brings up the knife again, and Silver’s hands move above his head in the same motion in self preservation. “You?” Flint says, mockingly, dangerously, resting the knife back at his throat, less insistent but still just as threatening. “A whore? Captaining a ship?”

“Just in name,” Silver gasps. “I’d only do what you tell me to, and only take a regular crew member’s share instead of a captain’s share, and you’d only have to keep on the bare minimum of Vane’s crew that it takes to steer a ship. It’s still a win-win.” 

Flint pauses again, searching Silver’s face. The moonlight dapples along his features as he stares at Silver, and the ship creaks below them. One of the crew members that had stayed behind to watch the ship shouts something, and there’s the sound of a glass breaking somewhere in the galley. 

It’s - electrifying, to be the sole focus of Captain Flint’s gaze. 

“What has you in such a hurry to leave this island? What did Vane do to you?” Flint finally asks. 

It takes a moment, but when the realization comes, it’s like the first rays of dawn sunlight breaking through fog. “You’re -  _ worried  _ about me,” Silver says, almost mockingly, because that’s how he hides his surprise. “ _ You  _ \- Captain Flint, scourge of the seven seas, the most feared captain in all the land - are  _ worried  _ about a whore in Nassau.” 

It probably wasn’t the most strategic move Silver had ever made, making fun of a feared sea captain in the middle of some of the most difficult negotiations of his life, and he has plenty of time to contemplate that incredibly bad decision as he’s thrown over the railing of the ship and falling into the ocean.

_ Fuck _ . Silver had ruined one of his only and best chances of getting the fuck off this island with a few careless words - and  _ damn,  _ his whole thing is supposed to be being  _ good  _ at using words, what is  _ with  _ that interaction with Flint that made him so terribly bad at it? And what is  _ with  _ Flint asking him about Vane, like he - again, for emphasis, Silver has to remind himself, the most feared and vicious captain in Nassau - actually  _ cared _ about the answer?

He downs another swig of his ale at the bar and puts his head in his hands.  _ Fuck _ , what was he going to do? 

Suddenly the doors to the whorehouse are thrown open and Flint’s voice booms, “Where’s the whore?” 

Silver turns toward the door to see what the hell is going on, and then is immediately slammed into the bar by the back of his neck. One of Flint’s crew is holding him down with his forearm, and Gates and Flint are standing over him. He wills himself not to laugh, but there’s something about this that’s just really, really fucking funny.

“ _ You _ ,” Flint says, malice twisting his words. “My crew saw you creeping around last night - you’ve got some nerve staying in town after attempting to steal from me.” 

Silver plays the meek, scared whore. “Please - “ he gasps. “Please, sir - I don’t know what you’re talking about - “

The guy holding him down smacks him on the head and Silver flinches. “Don’t play dumb.” 

“I - I swear, I - “

“Shut up,” Flint says, loud enough for the entire whorehouse to hear. “You thought you’d steal from me in the dead of night, and then sail off before I could even notice. That’s a remarkably stupid plan, but I know a whore from Nassau’s whorehouse couldn’t possibly have thought even that much up on your own.” He leans in close to Silver’s face, and Silver has to fight a giddy grin from working onto his face.  _ Fuck,  _ Flint was really doing this. “Now tell me, who are you working with?” 

Silver looks away like he doesn’t want to say and his eyes land on - Max.

She looks terrified, eyes wide and mouth open. “Silver,” she says, voice shaking.

He wishes he could tell her this had been his plan from the beginning, but can’t now with everyone watching. 

“Vane,” he finally breathes, like Max’s pleading had gotten to him. “Captain Vane.”  _ Sorry Max.  _

Flint sneers, and then rounds toward the doorway. Eleanor Guthrie is standing there - maybe Flint had brought her with him. 

They frog march him - for appearances, Silver thinks, though the brute holding him might not know that, because damn, that  _ hurts _ \- all the way down to the sands of Vane’s encampment. Word must have spread quickly because everyone from Vane’s crew, including Vane, Jack, and Bonny are all waiting in a horde near the entrance of the camp. 

The brute holding Silver - Billy, Silver thinks he heard Gates call him - throws him down face first in the sand near Vane’s feet.  _ Shit _ . Well, that’s alright, all he has to do is not look up. He doesn’t think he can handle the fire in Vane’s eyes right now - even though he’s played this well enough for anyone on the outside to say that he had no fault in it except getting caught where he shouldn’t have been, Vane knows him too well for that. He’d know he had planned this, and he would be furious. 

“Captain Vane!” Eleanor says. “Captain Flint has found your whore sneaking onto his ship, looking to steal the very thing your contract with him hinged on. Due to this breach of contract, I’m effectively terminating the contract.”

Silver breathes a sigh of relief. Step one, done. 

Step two - 

“And because of the severity of this crime, and because this is not the first time you’ve been known to cause trouble with contracts - “ Eleanor takes a deep breath. “I’m taking your ship and your crew. I’m canceling the Guthrie relationship with you. You will have no more leads from me.” 

_ Shit,  _ that was harsher than Silver had expected. That breakup must have been hard on them both. 

Eleanor looks to the mass of Vane’s crew assembled. “For the rest of you - I’m giving you one more chance. If you decide to forsake Captain Vane and join up with Captain Flint, sail under his banner. Work with him to retrieve the Urca gold. You get one chance - make your choice now.”

Silver feels feet moving around him while he assumes what are Vane, Jack, and Anne’s standing still. Shit, this must be - all of them? His whole crew had left him. Silver can’t say he blames them - it had been close to a month of being grounded for them, they must have been fed up. Still, it can’t be easy to watch for a captain. If Silver didn’t hate him so much, he might feel bad for him. 

Billy finally hauls Silver up by his arms and Silver spits out the sand from his mouth as best he can while he’s man-handled to be facing Flint and Eleanor. 

“And you?” Eleanor asks. “What will you choose?”

“You  _ shit _ ,” Vane says, growling. 

Silver pointedly does not look at either him or Flint as he says, “I choose Flint’s crew.” 

Billy shoves him, and he takes that first step on the hot sand toward his future.

It’s cliche, but even the sea looks different now, with freedom cloaked around his skin. He hates it a little less when it’s the key to getting off this damn island. He has no idea how to do this - how to be a sailor, but he’ll figure it out. The new captain, Gates, who Silver had since learned is in fact Flint’s quartermaster, doesn’t seem to really know what he’s doing either, so he feels like he’ll fit right in. 

He sees Flint standing at the front of the ship, watching the preparations happening on Vane’s ship next to them. Despite his best judgement, he walks over and stands next to his captain. 

Flint acknowledges him with a grunt. 

“You said ‘do to me,’” Silver says, without any preamble, feeling the spray of the sea as the ship rocks back and forth.

Flint narrows his eyes at him. “What?”

“Back then, when you were asking me - “ Silver tucks an errant curl behind his ear. “You asked what Vane had done to me.” 

Flint nods, suddenly tense. 

“What made you think it was something that he’d done? And not just - me trying to escape something I’ve done?” 

Flint shrugs. “Because I know Vane.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t know me,” Silver says. 

“No, I don’t,” Flint says. Silver turns to face him fully. Flint stares into the sea, red hair framing his face. Someone on the ship calls for the captain, and Silver’s so distracted by that he almost misses what Flint says next. “But I understand wanting to be free.” 

The spray of a wave mists them and Silver tells himself that’s why he shudders so violently. His throat is hoarse suddenly when he says, “Yeah?”

Flint turns and smacks his hand on Silver’s shoulder. “Good luck on the ship, sailor. Our partnership, be that as it may be, has officially ended. Our story ends when we get the gold off the Urca.” He turns and follows the voice that was calling for him. 

Silver watches him go and can’t help but think that actually, their story has just begun. 

He looks out at the sea and smiles. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you squint a little too hard, the plot definitely doesn't line up, so uh - don't do that. This was mostly an exercise in finishing something, but I had a lot of fun writing it anyway! Hope you liked it - come chat with me about Black Sails at toomuchsky.tumblr.com!


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